Never Meant To
by catchme21
Summary: Trouble with the Impala on the way to a job is more than it seems. My entry for Supernatural.tv's last challenge for '07.


Supernatural.tv was hosting a challenge, to write a story including the Impala so here is my entry. It couldn't be more than 10 pages, and this one was just to the end of six.

Since this dealt with the car, I wanted to use a place I was at least a little familiar with. I've been to Lawton a few times, but not enough to _truly_ know the area, so I apologize for any mistakes.

The challenge ends the 18th, so I suggest checking out the other ones. Or submitting one yourself. :)

Thanks guys and I hope you enjoy.  
Kris

Disclaimer: I don't own them, they own me.  
AN: Unbeta'd, so any and all mistakes are mine.

There also isn't a lot of swearing, just a couple perverted jokes...

-.-SN-.-

**Not Meant To by CatchMe21**

The sticky smell of sweat hung heavy in the air and the wide-open windows of the glossy black 1967 Chevy Impala did nothing to relieve her occupants. The land was flat, barren of anything that would provide even the smallest amount of shade in the sweltering heat, and they were suffering.

The hunters had been traveling across the southern half of Oklahoma for the past three hours. They were taking their time, heading east across US62 until they hit Interstate 44. Some country bumpkins had spotted gremlins in Springfield, Missouri, and it had definitely piqued their interest last night. After a few relaxing games of pool they passed out early and slept in.

The _cute little pranksters_, as Dean had affectionately and sarcastically deemed them, loved havoc and mischievous only on the weekends. They had a working theory about some uptight business men, who couldn't be bothered to transform into the horrid little creatures during the work week. They'd had a pretty good laugh over it, and since it was only Tuesday, they didn't have to haul ass to get there. So all in all things were looking up.

Except for the heat.

Sam had mentioned pulling off in Lawton, and taking a short break before they hit the endless toll road on I-44. Both brothers had been in a foul mood since the interior of the car had become unbearable, and they had mutually agreed to forgo any conversation until they could talk to each other without any undeserved animosity.

Seven miles outside of Lawton, she quit. "No, no, no," Dean muttered as he guided the steaming car to a stop on the side of the sizzling black top. She exhaled with a drawn out groan, and then fell silent.

Sam threw an annoyed look at Dean, but kept silent. It wasn't his brother's fault his car was getting old…

"I saw that," Dean snipped as he climbed out from the driver's seat. He leaned into the back seat and grabbed a button up shirt, and wrapped it around his hand.

Sam also got out, and stood by as his brother carefully propped the hood open. With the hand wrapped in flannel, he grasped the cap to the coolant reservoir and slowly twisted. Steam shot out, sending Dean reeling back with a sharp curse.

"We've been driving pretty much nonstop the past two days, in 100 degree weather, you're not opening that any time soon," Sam remarked.

"_Not opening that any time-_" Dean mimicked. "Dude, shut up." He was blaming his temporary insanity on the freakin' heat, there's no other way he would have tried to open that damn thing. Frustration gnawed at his frazzled nerves, and he honestly couldn't pay attention to jack squat right now.

With the increasing heat, Sam felt his own impatience growing, and couldn't help but let out an annoying huff. He dug his cell phone out of his pocket and hit 411 for information. As he waited for the automated menu, he pulled at his shirt, releasing the cotton from its clinging hold on his skin.

"Who are you calling now?" Dean said, watching from the corner of his eye.

"Tow truck. We're just outside of Lawton; we'll be able to find a mechanic there."

"All I need is a parts store and my tool kit," Dean answered, adding a huff of his own and also pulling at his own shirt. Both of them were soaked from sweat, their faces slightly tinged red as their bodies fought to remain cool.

"Yeah, I remember the last time you and your tool kit saved the day," Sam muttered, pausing when the monotone voice picked up. "Mechanic. Lawton, Oklahoma." Information connected him to the nearest mechanic, and he had a tow truck headed there way "_in mere minutes man_". "The last time you used your tool kit, we were delayed an extra three days as you decided to replace every other part that looked remotely used," Sam finished after he'd hung up.

Dean simply glared and rubbed a hand down his face, glancing at the steam that continued to pour from the partially-opened metal cap. "Why'd you give up on me today, baby? And in front of _him_?"

"Oh that's great Dean, talk to your car some more, I'll leave you two alone. I'm sure you guys have such tantalizing conversations."

Dean's eyes widened and a grin split his face. "Dude, you're such an ornery little bitch when you're dehydrated."

Sam inhaled deep, held it, and let it out slowly. Unable to resist, his lips quirked up into a grin. "You're right; I think we've both digressed to the age of eight in the past few hours. But please, can we at least just let the mechanic deal with this? We still have to reach Springfield by Friday, so let's just get the car in and get back out."

The rattle of chains interrupted their conversation, and a large rusted tow truck came to a shuddering halt beside them. "_Ge rge s Lift Se vic_ " was painted in bright blue letters across one rusted yellow door, half of the letters missing.

"Ya'll need a lift?" a man yelled, his large jowls shaking as he nodded the answer to his own question.

Dean looked at the piece of crap truck, then longingly at his baby, then back to the truck.

"It's only seven miles Dean," Sam said, putting a hand on his shoulder in mock comfort. "I'm sure she'll be just fine."

"One scratch and you're paying for a new paint job Sammy."

-.-SN-.-

Three hours, a large dinner of cold sandwiches, and a couple of even colder showers later they were back on the road.

"Who would have thought my baby would have sprung a leak?" Dean asked casually, ending the ten minutes of silence that had begun their trip. "Would it have anything to do with that dirt road we took yesterday?"

Sam glanced at his annoying older sibling from the corner of his eye. He had finally cooled down again, had a great meal, and was not going to let his mood turn sour again.

"Oh I think it might have been," was Dean's sarcastic reply. "Remember that shortcut you suggested we take? Hm Sam?"

"Yes," the one in question answered. "I merely suggested it. I didn't think you'd actually take it."

"And what, oh you genius you, did you say when I wanted to turn around?" Dean asked, quickly alternating his gaze from the upcoming on ramp to his passenger. "After I heard the fiftieth boulder hit?"

"Oh come on Dean, you can't be blaming me for the crack? Besides, they weren't _boulders_, it was only gravel."

Dean paused for a moment as they approached the toll booth. Handing the correct change to the teller with a quick smile, he picked back up as soon as they were on their way. The Impala hungrily ate up the light gray pavement, stretching her legs as soon as the endless miles revealed a speed trap-free zone.

An hour had passed, and no end to the argument was in sight. "Since when have you ever taken my suggestions seriously?"

"Well, Sam, when you're the one holding the map, and you tell me that it would be longer if we turned around, I'm not really going to argue. If I had known we weren't even halfway through, I would have turned around and spared the endless engine parts I may have to eventually replace."

"You know, that really says a lot about your car-"

"Don't you even say it," Dean growled. "Don't you dare."

"All I'm sayin' is she's gettin' old man. We may have to put her to pasture soon."

"You even suggest that again, and I will bury you in said pasture."

Sam grinned, unable to help it. Sometimes Dean was so easy to pick at, and it sure as hell made up for the endless jokes being made at his own expense.

Dean glanced over again, feeling his own lips quiver as he caught Sam's amusement. "Aw screw it."

Another hour passed, and they chatted lightly. The heat had eased as nightfall came, the darkness cocooning the metallic beast with a pleasantly cool breeze. Sam shared a few of the weird news articles he'd come across daily, and Dean shared a few of his own weird tales he'd come across the few times he'd hunted alone.

Shortly before 9 PM, Dean was lost in his own thoughts as Sam quietly slid into a dreamless sleep beside him. He felt it before he heard it, the small vibration growing with every mile passed. A large clanking soon added to the vibration, a particularly large _ping-k!_ followed by a series of small explosions had Sam sitting up, rubbing at his tired eyes.

"Dean? What the?"

"Hell, I don't know!" Dean said, frustration growing as he pulled her off onto the shoulder for the second time in the same day. "Damnit!"

No outward sign was visible as the Impala shuddered to a stop, dying with a cough and a final spasm. The engine ticked as it cooled, the only sound emanating from the motionless trio.

Dean climbed out slowly, his mind unable to comprehend what the hell had been happening. Had _'Ge rge'_ done something to his girl? She had never failed him like this before.

It was pitch black as he felt his way to the front of the hood, no lights illuminated the long stretch of toll road and not even a passing car could offer a moment of light. Edging back towards the back seat, Dean felt around for his flashlight. A bright glow illuminated Sam's face as he furiously pushed buttons on his small phone, his eyes in a squint as he scanned the small text.

Grateful for no witty remarks and snappy comments from the sidekick, Dean quietly made his way back to the front of the car. He popped the hood and clicked the flashlight to life, quickly sweeping over the engine components. He was on his third mystified sweep when the flashlight began to wane, slowly dimming until it died.

In an attempt as old as time, Dean did what ever other person does and began to furiously shake the flashlight, hitting it against his palm and thigh for good measure. When it refused to cooperate, Dean hurled it mid-temper tantrum into the other lane of the road, listening with satisfaction as it bounced twice and landed silently in the median.

Sam poked his head out, having been silent witness to the whole thing. "You're not going to like this."

"What now?" Dean groaned.

"The nearest mechanic is George."

"Oh you're kidding me!"

-.-SN-.-

George was more than happy to bustle out in the middle of the night, picking them up for the second time. They reached Lawton well after midnight; weary from George's poorly executed knock-knock jokes and the old country blasting from the static filled speakers.

George informed them he would take a "lookie" first thing in the morning as he dropped them in front of the small bed and breakfast, the same place they had taken their showers earlier.

They grabbed their duffels and sanitized the trunk as much as possible, before slowly making their trek inside. The same grandmotherly woman that had sold them the amazing cold turkey sandwiches appeared in a large yellow robe, bright pink rollers completing the cliché look in her freshly dyed auburn hair.

"Oh you poor things, again? Well, come on in, got a room all ready for ya."

-.-SN-.-

Morning came fast, and 8 AM did not bode well for the hunters. George regrettably informed them that a large rock had found its way inside the engine, tearing large chunks of a few of the major components and dislodging the rest. Dean listened attentively as Sam found himself quickly lost in the mechanical jargon. He understood a bit about cars, but he didn't realize Dean knew every last inch of that Impala, to include the names and location to every little part and tiny screw.

Dean's face was red by the time the old mechanic also added a part wouldn't come in until Friday. He would put a rush order in, but not even the President could have gotten it faster, not for a fine piece of tail like a 1967 Chevy Impala. The last part added by the grimy man had Sam rolling his eyes and Dean swelling with pride. One of his peeves about the car was the fact that parts were harder to come by, but his love for her far outweighed any petty annoyances.

"I got a vehicle ya'll can borrow fer the meantime," George offered, pointing to a second tow truck, her cab, if possible, more rusted over than the previous. Dean shook his head politely, declining the offer.

"Besides, Pillsbury Dough Boy here could use the walking," Sam shot out, much to the older Winchester's surprise. Dean sent a sharp jab into Sam's shoulder, nearly knocking the taller man over as he flailed to catch his balance.

They entered back through the door of the quaint bed and breakfast, discussing their next move. "If we haul ass non-stop, we should be able to get there before those little bastards do any serious damage," Dean said, holding the map out in front of him and measuring the route as they walked.

The rest of the night went uneventfully, and Dean couldn't stand it. Sam had buried himself into the screen of the laptop as he simply surfed the free WiFi, and Dean's enjoyment had ended as soon as the free movie had ended.

Noticing Dean's pacing, Sam glanced up. "How was the movie?"

Dean grinned. "Man, _Waiting_ gets funnier every time I see it, Ryan Reynolds is a funny guy. But remind me never to piss off anyone serving our food."

"Dually noted," Sam muttered, once again watching something closely on the screen.

"I'm gonna go out and get some food, maybe stop by the nearest corner and pick up a hooker. And if I bring her back, will you give us some privacy? Or we could share, haven't done that in a while," Dean said nonchalantly.

"Sure," Sam muttered, no indication he'd truly heard the older hunter. Dean swept up his jacket and headed for the door, making sure a copy of the room key was in his pocket.

"I take my hookers crab free," Sam called, getting a laugh from Dean.

-.-SN-.-

It was the next afternoon when the news hit. The boys had been stuck in their room all day, not daring to go outside in the torrential downpour. The water was running down the streets in rivers, and the tiny garden outside of the B&B had been flooded out.

They had the news on for background noise, and were engaged in a deadly game of chess. They had both won a game so far, and were vying for champ.

The news playing in the background was covering the large storms hitting much of the Midwest. The term 'Springfield' repeated in rapid succession caught their attention, and had them both studying the television intently.

_"…yesterday when storms swept out a large portion of Interstate 44 leading into Springfield. The evacuation process was nearly impossible as the residents received warnings of tornado activities in the area, which storm chasers warned could be the largest in nearly a decade. We go now to Bryant Johnson, live in southern Springfield. How are things looking out there Bryant?" _

"Thanks Janet. As you can see behind me, the sky is nearly black and it is only two in the afternoon. Eerie sirens have been going off since early this morning, and citizens are in a mad panic trying to get away from the threat of the tornadoes." 

The Winchesters watched in morbid fascination as the screen cut in and out, the static-filled image of the balding news reporter flickering as the signal fought to stay connected.

_"…large pieces of housing are being literally swept down roadways, people are actually sitting on the roof of their cars in the now flooded roadways, just waiting to be rescued. The President has declared a state of emergency, and the National Guard is out-"_

The signal fizzled for a moment, and then the screen quickly cut back over to Janet.

_"We seem to be having technical difficulties, and after a short break was will try to bring you up to date on the unfolding events-"_

Dean shut off the television, his wide eyes meeting with Sam's equally shocked expression.

"Dean, if the car hadn't broken down, we'd be there right now."

Dean nodded slowly, never having loved his car so much as he did right now. His baby hadn't failed them, she had _saved_ them. "Do you think the gremlins will still be a problem?" he asked with a quizzical look.

Sam, grinning wide, replied, "Let's hope they can't swim."

-.-SN-.-

Any suggestions are welcome! Thanks for reading.

Kris


End file.
